I feel the flutter of my eyelashes before I am aware that I have beckoned my eyes to open. The deep breathing is still there and has caused my unconscious mind to play tricks on me. I hear the sound of the whisper in the thick trees. How long have I been out? Has it been 5 minutes or 2 hours? Immediately my eyes spring open and I feel a hard jab of recognition deep in my endocardium. My hands blindly search the ground near me. My head hurts so badly that I sharply turn to my left and vomit.
How can this have happened? I am still trying to collect myself as something bright catches my eye on the other side of the ravine. I shield my eyes from the sun by holding up my hands. It must be early afternoon. There is no evidence of the shadows cast by the sun, just the bright glare of it hanging somewhere directly above me and the heat radiating up from the ground. Immediately, I realize how thirsty I am. Now attempting to move from a position on my hands and knees to my feet proves less than ideal. The more I move my body, the more aware I am of the pain.
I quickly remind myself that if I concentrate on something else, my body won’t go into shock. Where did I learn that? Was it from the self-defense class they offered spring semester in the rec center? Thinking about all the girls standing there and patiently listening to the stern-faced instructor explain how to knock their attacker off-balance gave me a giant sense of pride about being a woman. I quietly ran through all the holds and grabs I could remember from the short 20 minute free class. I had just stepped over to observe it quietly while I waited for Grayson to finish up some paperwork for his membership for the summer.
He had asked me to help him pay for it since he was staying at school after the semester ended to work and take a few classes. I remember thinking how proud I was of him for wanting to get a head-start on his sophomore year. I felt my heart jump wildly at the thought of him. I hoped at this very moment he was at his summer job. I pictured him set up at a library table teaching a younger kid the steps in a quadratic equation. This put a smile on my face. I have always despised math, but not Grayson. Grayson has loved math since first grade. I guess he got that from his father. Another sharp pain ascended on my heart at that very thought. As I looked around at my current circumstances, it dawned on me that maybe I didn’t know anything about the man I had been married to for 23 years.
I quickly struggled to my feet, a struggle it definitely was, and teetered my balance between my two legs. I was taking turns closing each eye in order to see which one could provide the least fuzziest picture in front of me. It was at that very second that I heard the sound getting closer to me. It was moving fast. I stepped backwards and flattened against something tall and sturdy. Just as I did, I heard the undeniable sound of a woman screaming.
A Pipeliner's Wife 